


Uneasy Company

by completelyhopeless



Series: Detective Grayson and Forensic Batgirl [7]
Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Case Fic, F/M, Gen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3101261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/completelyhopeless/pseuds/completelyhopeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick doesn't know how he got where he is, and the company isn't helping. Barbara has her hands full trying to keep the gunman holding her hostage from doing something crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uneasy Company

**Author's Note:**

> In part, this can answer the prompt: _[Jason Todd/+any or gen, you can't trust man with a gun at all](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/549892.html?thread=77728260#t77728260)_
> 
> I needed a break from the Circus Birds AU and am trying to keep all my series updated, and I didn't really like where I'd left off last time, so I wrote a bit more for this. I feel like it's lost itself somewhere along the way, but maybe I'm just paranoid myself.

* * *

Dick couldn't figure out how he'd gotten here.

Mental retracing of his steps didn't answer the question.

He remembered meeting with Selina. The dinner was like any of their dinners. Neither of them ordered anything to drink, a testament to the time they'd spent with Bruce, and neither of them acknowledged it. They had a routine, and they didn't discuss any of the elephants in the room. They both knew he should arrest her, they both knew he wouldn't, and neither of them discussed Bruce. She gave him information on his case, he paid the check and decided he didn't get to eat for the next month. She kissed his cheek when she left, and that was it.

He didn't understand.

He had not been surprised outside the restaurant. He remembered getting to his car just fine. He knew it wasn't the greatest, but this month it was running fine. He hadn't had to try and get one from the department—that wouldn't happen—or crawl back to Bruce for one of his loaners.

So the car hadn't broken down. He wasn't jumped in any parking lot or on the side of the roof.

What the hell had happened, then?

His head ached, and his hands were cuffed above his head, and he'd laugh and call it ironic only he knew those weren't his cuffs.

And he had no idea where he was or how he'd gotten here.

Great.

* * *

“Tell me where Grayson is,” the gunman repeated, brushing the barrel against her temple like it would scare her more. Barbara didn't think he had any idea who he was dealing with, even if he assumed that he knew her because he'd figured out her job and where she worked and that she worked with Dick. He hadn't dug deep enough. “Now, lady.”

“I don't know,” she said, knowing he wouldn't believe her even if it was the truth. “He left on his own hours ago. He didn't tell me where he was going. I didn't ask. Now, why do you want him so badly?”

“I have the gun. I ask the questions.”

“Kid,” she said, not moving though she wanted to see a reaction to her words. “I don't have any interest in seeing what you're compensating for with that thing. I'm not scared. I kind of lost that when my mother was killed. Nothing's ever compared to that moment, not even my dad getting shot. I don't work for the police because I have some warped idea that it's fun. I know my job is dangerous even if I'm not the one on the streets. So you can either tell me what you want with Dick or you can pull the trigger, but it won't get you any closer to him.”

“There's something messed up about you,” the gunman said. “It's actually kind of hot. You and Dick, you two... shacked up or anything?”

“No, Jason, we're not.”

“Where'd you get that name from?”

“Who do you think?” Barbara asked. She was almost confident enough to push the gun away from her head. She didn't, waiting. Everyone said Jason was dangerous, a ticking time bomb, and while Alfred seemed to worry about him, the only one who didn't think Jason was a menace was Dick. “Now, you want to tell me why you think you have to put a gun to my head to find him?”

* * *

Dick didn't like being stared at.

He really didn't like it when it was a freakish kid assassin doing it. He had some experience with that thanks to Jason, but he still hated it. Something about being stared at made his skin crawl, and he was back into the territory where he wanted to throw something, _anything,_ to make the feeling go away. He didn't want to flashback right now. He never got any more of the pieces, so why did he have to keep repeating the ones he did have?

“Stop staring at me.”

The kid blinked, saying nothing but pulling forward a sword, and Dick held in a curse. He'd figured this one for Maroni's latest, but he didn't know what to think of the sword. None of the girls had been killed with a katana.

“If I say please?”

The kid just kept staring.

Dick sighed. “How about skipping to the part where you kill me, then? Because I really, _really_ hate being stared at.”

That kid smiling, though, that was worse.

* * *

“Dick went off the grid about six hours ago.”

Barbara couldn't remember what she'd been doing six hours ago, but she nodded, still trying to coax Jason into explaining himself. She figured the longer she kept him calm, the better. She had two very different stories when it came to him, and while she liked Dick, she had a bad feeling he liked to think the best of everyone even when he shouldn't.

“He could be sleeping.”

Jason snorted. “Dick doesn't sleep, in case you haven't noticed. Even if he did go home—and he didn't—he wouldn't be sleeping. It's not how he works, especially not on a case. Alfred used to sedate him to get that to happen, and Bruce wasn't much better. He'd just pour some of his 'coffee' into Dick's drink and Dick would be so focused he just drank it and didn't realize until he was passing out that Bruce had done it to him again.”

She wanted to rub her forehead. She had a headache, one that was going to turn into a migraine if she couldn't get Jason to stop pointing the gun at her. “Even Dick isn't that focused. You notice alcohol when it's in your drink.”

“Not when you drink the stuff Dick does.”

She sighed. “Look, if you want my help finding Dick, I think we should establish a few ground rules first.”

“Rules? I am the one with the gun. I make the rules. Seems simple to me.”

“And if you intended to use the gun on me, you'd already have done it,” she countered. “You're here. You're worried about Dick, and you want help to find him. If you're really sincere about that—”

“Dick is the only person who ever gave a damn about me,” Jason said, pushing the gun against her head. “Don't think I won't do anything I have to to protect him. I will. I'll kill anyone that hurts him, and if that includes you because you think you can somehow talk me down, I won't make it painless.”

“Dick doesn't want you to have to kill.”

“Yeah, well, Dickie-bird's an idiot. He came to warn me because he thought they'd come after me again, but they don't care about me. He never seems to remember that he's the one that got away.”

Barbara let out a breath, trying to control the sudden turmoil of emotions going through her. “What do you mean, he's the one that got away? Did Maroni say something about wanting Dick back?”

“That's not how it works. None of us are supposed to know who the others are. We don't train together, we don't see each other, we don't even try and kill each other. Maroni wasn't my trainer, and he never said anything to me about Dick. You can tell Dick got away because he's still _good.”_

“And you're not.”

Jason laughed. “Hell, no. I stopped being good a long time ago, but Dick never believed that. He won't give up on me, which is why I have to find the idiot and save him from himself.”

She almost laughed herself. She'd wanted a way to do that earlier. “How do you know he went off the grid?”

“I was watching.”

She shook her head. “You know, you were making him paranoid. He couldn't stop looking at the window, couldn't focus, was on edge. His PTSD was back.”

“No, when Dickie-bird flashes back, he throws things,” Jason said. “Some kind of defense mechanism or something. He's not taking off someone's head with a makeshift throwing knife, you're good. He's good.”

“Sure he is.”

“Enough of this. Dick met the catwoman, had dinner, and walked away from that. Next thing I know, he's gone. No sign of him or that piece of junk car he drives, just nothing. Gone. Maroni's got him. I need you to find him. Do that forensic voodoo thing you do on TV and give me a place to look.”

“Dick's phone doesn't have GPS, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. He's always pulling the chips so Bruce can't spy on him. If I thought it was that simple, I'd have done it myself.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know that without a location, I can't even collect samples to run tests on. Maybe if we had Dick's car there would be something, but I can't make evidence materialize out of thin air, not even with a gun to my head.” 

“You are useless. I should just shoot you.”

“Why don't you shoot Kowlinski instead?”

“Fine,” Jason said in a tone that made it sound like it was already a done deal. “Which one is Kowlinski?”

* * *

“What if I told you you didn't have to be an assassin?”

Not even a blink.

Dick really didn't like this kid. The staring was creepy. He needed it to stop. It was like someone had set that kid there to watch him on purpose, knowing what that did to him, how it freaked him out. He was starting to feel worse, and he knew that even if he had a concussion, it was a mild one. The skin crawling near panic need to escape or throw something was not a part of any concussion.

“I can't be that interesting. You don't have to watch.” Dick shifted uncomfortably. “I'm handcuffed. I'm not Houdini. I'm not getting free.”

The kid didn't respond.

Dick sighed. “You know, I wasn't kidding about hating being watched. I really do hate it.”

“Robin,” the kid said, but instead of it being some kind of relief to have him finally react, to speak, the word made Dick sick.

* * *

“Jason,” Barbara called, forcing her door open and rushing out after him. “Don't! You don't even know who Kowlinski is, and you don't have to—”

“What I don't know, I'll find out.”

“That's crazy. Come back and listen to me, please,” she said as she ran after him. She had to stop him before he did something insane. Gotham's cops were corrupt, but that didn't mean he wouldn't end up hunted for killing one of them, even just for _shooting_ one of them.

“What more do I need to know? This guy can tell me what happened to Dick, and that's all that matters.”

“Jason, listen to me, Kowlinski is just the patsy. Dick figured that out earlier. Maroni's going to pin this on him and leave him holding the bag for everything he did this time. You killing Kowlinski won't change that. Maroni will just close up and move on, and that's not what Dick wants. He wants to stop Maroni for good this time.”

“Oh, I'll stop Maroni,” Jason said, flashing her a grin that was downright insane. “And I'll take care of Kowlinski, too.”


End file.
